


Sigh for Sigh

by logogram



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alpha Louis Tomlinson, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Regency, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Knotting, M/M, Marriage of Convenience, Masturbation, Miscommunication, Omega Harry Styles, Pining, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:20:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24389551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/logogram/pseuds/logogram
Summary: When his father's sudden illness forces Harry to get married in a hurry, he's delighted that Lord Louis Tomlinson is the one who makes him an offer. Being married to Louis is just as wonderful as he imagined, except for one thing-- they haven't mated yet.Or the one where they're both idiots, Harry's afraid to say what he's thinking, and Louis's just trying to be honorable.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Niall Horan/Shawn Mendes
Comments: 55
Kudos: 547





	Sigh for Sigh

**Author's Note:**

> This is very, very loosely based on a mishmash of ideas and events from Pride and Prejudice-- Harry has a large dowry and is a target for fortune hunters (like Georgiana Darcy was), but his family's estate is entailed (like the Bennet sisters), so he has to make a good marriage. Somehow I decided it was a good idea to bring A/B/O to Jane Austen.
> 
> Harry and Louis are 22 and 25 respectively in this story, so while Harry is inexperienced, he's definitely of age. 
> 
> Many, many thanks to my betas [wait4ever](https://wait4ever.tumblr.com), [absolutenonsense](https://absoloutenonsense.tumblr.com), and [indiekissy](https://indiekissy.tumblr.com/) for all of their work to make this story better!! Any remaining mistakes are mine.
> 
> If you'd like to translate, please let me know. Please don't post this story on any other websites.

Harry’s father, the Earl of Cheshire, was desperately ill, and Mr. Cowell had just arrived in London. Harry, his mother, and their solicitor were huddled in Anne’s private parlor, trying desperately to avoid even a whisper of their conversation reaching the ears of Mr. Cowell.

“Thank heavens,” Anne paused and exhaled sharply. She took a steadying breath and continued. “Thank heavens for your dowry.” 

Harry tried to keep his expression stoic, but his eyebrows betrayed him, and of course Anne saw. “It is the only solution, Harry. You must know that.”

Harry had known that, but knowing didn’t alleviate the sick feeling in his stomach. Still, he didn’t want to be the one to say it, realizing that would make his current circumstances all too real. It could be no coincidence that Mr. Cowell, his father’s estranged cousin who was to inherit the estate, had suddenly arrived at their home just when Harry’s father had fallen ill.

Anne smiled, a wry twist of the mouth. “It may not happen in the way you wanted, but the time is here. You must marry.”

Harry looked to Mr. Wilberforce, who gave a helpless shrug. “I’m afraid that your mother is correct. It is my fear that Mr. Cowell has already developed a plan to begin depleting your dowry.”

“But how is that possible? How could he have known how to go about it?”

Mr. Wilberforce slid a sheaf of papers across the table to him— his father’s will, the deed with the entail noted, a document with an accounting and description of Harry’s dowry, and a small stack of letters.

Harry and his mother each made to pick one up, as Mr. Wilberforce explained. “Your father, although he couldn’t have anticipated his current illness, suspected his cousin of attempting to learn more about the accounts so that he could use them to divert your dowry into his own coffers. These letters are his communication with his bankers, investors, even associates of Mr. Cowell, in an attempt to learn more about this scheme.”

Though they had clearly shared with him his father’s concerns, Harry couldn’t help but feel that Anne and the solicitor were holding back, still keeping something from him. He scanned over the dowry document, glad that his father had insisted that, omega or not, he learn to read and understand the accounts of the estate.

“Mr. Wilberforce, of course I am not a solicitor, but it seems to me that my dowry is quite well protected, and that there is no possibility that Mr. Cowell could get his hands on it.”

The look that passed between his mother and Mr. Wilberforce was quick, but unmistakable. They had indeed been keeping something from him, and his father had as well. His stomach knotted as Mr. Wilberforce drew in a breath to answer.

“It’s true that your dowry is quite well protected, your father and I made sure of that.” He sighed and continued. “We believe that Mr. Cowell intends to gain access to your dowry through your marriage. We expect that he will propose marriage to you any day now, and that that is how he intends to gain control of your dowry. One hundred thousand pounds is no mean sum, and although the estate comes with an excellent living, a man such as Mr. Cowell would no doubt wish to increase his holdings as much as possible.”

Harry felt as though he were swimming through water without having come up for air for some minutes. Everything was moving so slowly, and it was difficult to make out which way was up.

Mr. Cowell was old, and he was unkind (Harry had seen him curse at a maid just yesterday), and he was demanding. Ever since he could remember, Harry had wanted a loving spouse and a houseful of pups, the same sort of idyllic relationship that his parents had, and that so many of the beau monde did not. He knew that he could not love a man like Mr. Cowell, and if they were to be married, any dreams he might have had for happiness in marriage would slip away from him.

“But surely—surely he can’t force me to marry him? He must know that I would turn him down.”

Mr. Wilberforce’s mouth twisted, as though he had tasted something very bitter. “Your mother and I are, as was your father before his illness, afraid that Mr. Cowell will engineer a situation that puts the two of you in a compromising position in public. Once you were discovered, you would have no choice but to marry him or be ruined.”

Looking down at his hands, he continued. “Mr. Cowell is an unscrupulous man. In speaking to his associates, your father and I have learned that he is an inveterate gambler, and that, prior to becoming a member of the clergy, he was involved in a club of the most unsavory sort. Trapping you into marriage to secure your dowry is just the sort of thing that he would do.”

Harry looked then to his mother. She was tired and drawn, but there was a sort of fierceness about her too. “You don’t have to let him choose your destiny, stuck with a cruel man who doesn’t care for you, just for your money.” 

She drew her spine straight, looking every inch the determined countess. “We can find you an alpha and announce an engagement right under Mr. Cowell’s nose!”

*****

A week later and Harry felt no closer to having any idea of which alpha might be a good match for him. He had alternated between sitting by his father’s bedside and dodging Mr. Cowell, who had indeed attempted to draw Harry into a number of enclosed rooms where they might be discovered in a scandalous position. 

There had been two balls, a ride through the park in his finest riding attire, and no fewer than fifteen calls to friends and acquaintances of his mother whose alpha children were of marriageable age. 

Lord Liam Payne had been extremely pleasant, and his mother charming. But he’d given Harry a sort of a look as though Harry was an alien creature when Harry had suggested that a floral blouse might look quite nice with Lord Payne’s jacket. He supposed that they might be better off as friends.

Lord Zayn Malik’s parents had been nothing but welcoming, but when his mother pulled Anne away to examine a new fabric she wished to use to recover their dining chairs, Zayn confessed that another omega had captured his attention, and that he planned to make her an offer soon.

Lords Seymour, Swinton, and Calthorpe had been similarly ruled out, and Harry was sitting in the dining room with Niall, bemoaning his fate over breakfast when Lady Styles swept in. She was clutching a letter and inexplicably beaming. Harry and Niall rose to greet her, but she gestured for them to remain seated, taking a seat herself and pouring a cup of tea.

“Harry, dear, I’ve just had the nicest letter from Lady Johannah Deakin.”

Harry raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”

She took a sip of tea and continued. “Her eldest son, Lord Louis Tomlinson, has just returned home from an extended trip to the continent. He is three years your senior, well-established, well-traveled, and has his own estate. His mother has written inviting us to dinner this evening to celebrate his return, and she’s suggested that he is very interested in marrying and starting a family.”

At that, Harry drew in a steadying breath and tried to keep his face from betraying him. When he saw this, Niall gave Harry a sharp kick under the table, which made Harry drop his toast and Harry’s mother stare at him questioningly. 

“Yes, Mama. I’ll be happy to attend the dinner.”

Seeing that she would get no further response, Lady Styles finished her tea, reminded him that he should be ready with plenty of time to spare before the dinner, and swept back out of the dining room, off to the rest of her day.

The door had barely closed behind her when Niall burst. “Louis Tomlinson! You’ve only been in love with him since we were pups! I remember how you always wanted to follow him around, before his mother remarried and they moved away.”

Harry shushed him, looking around for any servants, or nosy sisters. “Lord Tomlinson has always looked at me as just a little boy, and I’m certain that won’t change now,” he said.

Niall sighed. “You’re an eligible omega now,” he said. “You’ve been out in society for a year, and several alphas have been interested in you. I don’t see any reason that Lord Tomlinson shouldn’t be as well.”

Slumping further in his chair, Harry said, “If only that were true. Surely you remember Lady Worthington’s ball in our first season, when Lady Deakin pressed him to ask me to dance?”

He paused, and Niall nodded for him to continue.

“When we danced, he smelled so good and I just wanted to scent him, and have him scent me, even in the middle of the ballroom, but he simply held his breath nearly the whole time. And then, the next day, he left for the continent. I didn’t say anything at the time because I was so embarrassed. We’d always gotten along when we were younger, but during the dance, he seemed disgusted by me.”

At that, Niall was out of his chair, rubbing Harry’s back comfortingly.

“I’m sure that he was just ill and didn’t want to infect you, nor refuse to dance. And the trip to the continent could have been planned for many months. Regardless, your mother will accept nothing less than your enthusiastic attendance at Lady Deakin’s dinner party, so why don’t we spend the morning going for a ride to get your mind off things, and then you’ll come back and get ready for this evening?”

Harry nodded miserably, and he and Niall headed off— Harry to his own bedchamber and Niall to his home just across the square— to dress for riding.

Several hours later and Harry was standing in the stall, brushing Archibald and feeling considerably more ready to face tonight’s party. Niall was right, it was entirely possible that Lord Tomlinson hadn’t fled to the continent to escape from Harry; and even if he had, it wasn’t Harry’s fault. He’d just attend tonight’s party, try to have a good time, and allow his mother and Lady Deakin to fuss over the two of them. They didn’t even have to interact beyond pleasantries.

*****

As soon as Harry and Lady Styles arrived that evening, they were greeted with great effusiveness by Lady Deakin, who at once called over her son, Lord Tomlinson. The feeling when Lord Tomlinson looked into Harry’s eyes and bowed was electric, just as much as it had been a year before on the night of Harry’s coming out.

Then the next group of guests arrived, and Lady Deakin and Lord Tomlinson stepped away to greet them, while Harry and his mother made their way into the room.

Harry spent the next fifteen minutes in a very pleasant conversation with Lady Greyson, who had known his mother since they were pups. She had just pulled a miniature portrait of her youngest grandson from her reticule when Lady Deakin came over, Lord Tomlinson in tow. 

“Mr. Styles, Louis will be your escort into dinner this evening.” It was then that Harry looked around and noticed that he and Lord Tomlinson were the only unmarried people in the room, and that now that he thought about it, his mother had been huddled earlier with Lady Deakin and Lord Tomlinson. Something was afoot, and there seemed to be some plotting going on behind his back.

Still, when Lord Tomlinson offered his arm to lead Harry into the dining room, there was no denying the spark he felt warming him from the inside as he took it.

Dinner was very pleasant indeed— Lord Tomlinson seated himself next to Harry and made pleasant conversation with everyone around him, drawing Harry easily into the conversation, offering to serve him an extra portion of peas when he noticed how much Harry had enjoyed them.

The first two courses sped by, and before he knew it, it was time for Lord and Lady Deakin’s youngest children to come down and be introduced to the group, given some sweets, and be sent back to the nursery for the evening. 

After their introduction, the children immediately surrounded Lord Tomlinson, who laughed and teased them as the youngest two climbed into his lap. He turned to Harry and very seriously made the introduction to Ernest and Doris, who watched Harry with round eyes, as one of the older twins— Daisy, Harry thought— said, “It’s lovely to meet you— we hope to see you again quite soon.”

Harry returned the sentiment, and just then Lady Deakin came over and sent the children off with their nurse.

Lord Tomlinson walked them to the stairs, and Harry watched the group depart with a happy sigh. It was all too easy to imagine Lord Tomlinson doing the same with their own children, never mind that this was their first interaction in a year, and that Lord Tomlinson had certainly not made him any sort of an offer.

It was only after the dessert course, and after the alphas had had their port and tobacco, that Harry had the chance to speak with Lord Tomlinson again. He was playing at the pianoforte when Lord Tomlinson entered and came to stand by Harry and listen to the rest of the song.

When he was done, Lord Tomlinson reached over, almost placing his hand on Harry’s shoulder before drawing it back. “Mr. Styles, might I have a word with you?”

Harry nodded, and let himself be led over to a corner of the room, open enough to be respectable, but quiet enough that their conversation would be private.

They sat, and Lord Tomlinson looked at Harry with an almost tender expression on his face. “I hope that you do not consider it an impertinence on my part to say that I find you quite admirable and beautiful, and to indicate that I have learned from my mother, and yours, that you lately find yourself in need of an alpha. I know that we have not spent very much time together at all since our childhood, but based on our interactions this evening, I feel that we could make a most desirable match. In a usual circumstance, I would have spent more time courting you, but given the urgency of your situation, I feel that it is incumbent upon me to make you an offer of marriage now.”

Harry realized that his mouth had fallen open most unattractively during the proposal, but he could not close it. Was Louis truly making him an offer? Would he actually be saved from a life with Mr. Cowell? And how would their marriage be? Would it be all that he wished for in a marriage? He could see that Louis was wonderful with children, and that he could provide a pleasant home for Harry and their family, but what about love? 

Then he thought back to the conversation with his mother and their attorney, about his father lying helplessly in bed, about dodging Mr. Cowell, and he steeled his spine. “Yes, Lord Tomlinson, I would be honored to accept your proposal.”

Lord Tomlinson’s smile was quick and bright, and seeing it left a warm, funny feeling in Harry’s stomach. 

“Shall we go share the good news with our mothers?” At that, he stood, offering Harry a hand up. 

They made their way over and with one look at Harry’s beaming smile, Anne swooped in to kiss him on the cheek. 

Lord Tomlinson turned to face their mothers and said, “Mother, Lady Styles, I am pleased to tell you that I have asked Mr. Styles to marry me, and he has accepted.”

As the wife of an earl, and the widow of a marquess, Lady Deakin would never squeal in public, but it was a near miss. She hugged Louis firmly, then turned to Harry and did the same. Shortly after, another guest caught her attention, and she and Anne were caught up in a conversation, but not before assuring Harry and Louis that they would all have tea the next day and discuss their engagement and wedding.

Louis tucked Harry’s arm in his and drew him away to the balcony. Harry was almost giddy with relief. It was difficult to believe that it had been just a week since his mother and Mr. Wilberforce had pulled him into the parlor and told him that he was in danger of finding himself wed to Mr. Cowell.

“I’ll be just one moment, Harry,” Louis murmured, and then more firmly, “May I call you Harry? I know that you’ve only just accepted me.” His anxious face relaxed at Harry’s nod. 

He turned and walked back into the house, returning soon with two glasses of wine. He pressed one into Harry’s hand saying, “This has been such a whirlwind, and I know that it’s just the two of us here, but I’d like to make a toast. To a long and prosperous marriage, filled with laughter and joy.” He raised his glass.

Harry raised his own glass, but didn’t drink. It was bold for an omega to chime in during a toast, but Louis didn’t seem the sort to mind. “To a life filled with love, and to plenty of pups.”

At that, Louis drank deeply then leaned forward as if to embrace Harry, but at the last moment, he stopped himself. “We should go back inside before people begin to gossip, but I want to tell you how pleased I am that we are to be married.”

Harry couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face.

*****

The next few weeks were even busier than the week before Louis had proposed. There had been two balls, several appointments at the tailor’s shop, a visit to the church to meet with the priest, and daily rides with Louis through the park. 

Lady Smythe, who always seemed to know all the news first, had thrown a supper party. Harry thought it was very likely that she simply wanted to know the circumstances behind their quick courtship and engagement before anyone else did. He suspected that Lady Smythe thought he had been compromised, and it was so annoying that he was tempted to give her the impression that she was correct.

On top of it all, Lord Styles’ health had begun to improve a little. There wasn’t any great change, but he had at least begun to stir and to respond when Harry and his mother spoke to him, although there was little hope that he would be able to attend the wedding.

Mr. Cowell, with Harry’s father on the mend and his plan to marry Harry thwarted, had become surlier and more taciturn than ever as he skulked around the townhouse. Harry, who was not by nature an unforgiving person, found that he couldn’t bring himself to feel sorry for Mr. Cowell, who had shown him no real kindness during their acquaintance. Still, he was relieved to no longer have to dodge Mr. Cowell when their paths crossed.

With everything that was happening, Harry and Louis had had only a few hours to meet with their mothers to plan the luncheon that would take place after their wedding. It would include all of their favorite foods, and, at Harry’s request, a spiced cake covered in marzipan. Louis had been very insistent that every part of the luncheon be exactly as Harry wanted it.

Just a few days before the wedding ceremony, Harry’s mother had called him into her sitting room, rang for tea and cake, then requested that they not be disturbed. Her face was serious and for a moment, Harry was afraid that his father had taken a turn for the worse. Then, Lady Styles handed him a book. “Harry, dear, you will soon be married, and I want to be sure that you know what to expect from your wedding night.” 

Harry, who had been in the middle of taking a sip from his cup of tea, choked a bit. 

Lady Styles, not deterred, pressed on. “You’ve been having heats for several years, but it’s different when you are intimate with an alpha. I feel certain that Lord Tomlinson will be most gentle and kind to you, but do take some time over the next few days to read over this book, so that you know what to expect when you are alone together for the first time.”

Though he’d never before thought that he was the sort of person to be easily embarrassed, Harry felt a blush spread across his cheeks as he took another sip of tea, grasped the book firmly in his hand and said, “May I be excused, Mother?”

She smiled at him, her eyes dancing, and gestured toward the door. “Enjoy the book, Harry! Let me know if you have any questions.”

That had been several hours ago, and Harry had been locked in his room with the book ever since. It had begun simply enough, with a description of the bodies of each sex, then delving into secondary genders. Then there were chapters devoted to mating. Every aspect, from kissing to lovemaking to knotting and being tied was described in explicit detail. 

Harry’s face burned with the knowledge that his mother had read this book, but at the same time, his mind kept going back to the idea of Louis kissing him breathless, to Louis moving inside him, to Louis knotting him. It was all too much, and he felt as though he would burst. 

To his shame, he found himself unlacing his breeches, reaching in, and just holding himself, something he’d only ever done at night, in the darkness, and certainly not in the middle of the afternoon, in broad daylight when anyone might come to the door. Just when he’d accepted that this was happening and he’d begun to stroke himself in earnest, a soft knock came at the door. He willed himself to sound normal and called, “Who is it?” so determined that he would send the person away that he hadn’t even removed his hand from his cock.

“It’s me, love,” Louis said, and hearing his voice just made Harry even harder.

He shook his head to clear it and called, “I’ll be just a minute! Will you meet me in the sitting room?”

He was barely able to wait for Louis’ response and the sound of his footsteps walking away before he was stripping his cock, gripping himself as firmly as he ever had, even in the throes of a heat. It only took a few more strokes before he finished with a shudder and a cry, muffled into his pillow, of “Oh, Louis!”

Normally he would have basked in the afterglow of his orgasm, but he needed to get himself cleaned up and to the sitting room before Louis waited too long. He wiped off, tucked himself in, laced up his breeches, and made an attempt to neaten his hair. Then he made his way to the family’s private sitting room, just down the hall from his bedchamber.

He hoped beyond hope that Louis would be there alone, because he didn’t think that he could handle seeing any of his family members after knowing what he’d just done. Fortunately only Louis was in the parlor, sipping tea as he reclined on a settee, looking very much at home. When Harry entered the room, he put his cup down right away and rose to his feet. “Harry!” He walked over to greet Harry, shutting the door before briefly embracing him and leading him over to a seat on his own settee. 

Harry started to speak, but Louis smiled brightly and continued. “Darling, you smell divine. Are you wearing a new cologne?”

Harry shrugged helplessly, and said, “No, just the normal scent.”

Louis hummed at that, then reached for a bundle tied with string that sat by his feet. “Harry, I asked your mother if we could meet privately today because I want to discuss a delicate matter with you. Since we will soon be wed, I wanted to bring you these books, to give you an idea of what to expect when we mate.” His voice was cheerful, but his words sounded carefully restrained, and his eyes were hooded. “The books contain all the information that you might want to know about mating before it happens.”

Harry reached for the pile of books, looking through them before glancing back up at Louis to say, “These are different from the one my mother gave me earlier today.” He knew it was improper, but he couldn’t help the note of flirtatiousness in his voice when he said, “I was reading it earlier, when you knocked on my door. That’s why I needed a few minutes, so that I could get myself together.”

At that, Louis gulped, and Harry could feel the mood in the room shift, and he could smell Louis, a stronger and headier scent than before.

“Oh, god, love, I want you to tell me everything about it, but it’s already improper for us to be here, alone together.” In spite of his words, Louis moved a little closer to Harry, who could feel himself shiver with anticipation.

Just as Louis stepped up to Harry, there was a quick knock at the door, and there was just time for them to spring apart before Lady Styles entered the room. 

She gave them a smile that was understanding but at the same time cautionary. “I know you’ll be married in just a few days, but for the sake of propriety, please leave the door open, won’t you?”

Harry gave her a wan smile and Louis piped in with assurances that of course they would. 

“Now, I’d pretend that I was here to chat, but truthfully, I just came by to make sure the door was open. Lord Tomlinson, we’ll be having a family supper this evening. Would you like to join us?” Lady Styles asked.

Harry looked at Louis hopefully, but Louis just shook his head. “I’d love to, Lady Styles, but my sisters are terribly concerned that they’ll never see me again after the wedding, and they’ve made me promise that I’ll have supper at home every night until Saturday. But if it’s possible, I would love to visit with you and Harry tomorrow morning so that we can discuss our living arrangements after we’ve married.”

Lady Styles smiled and agreed, and Harry nodded. 

Louis dropped a kiss on Harry’s cheek, saying that he’d show himself out. When he closed the door, Harry dropped back onto the settee with a complete lack of grace, and gave a happy sigh.

“He’s a very charming fellow, isn’t he, dear?” his mother asked.

Harry just sighed again. “I think he’s absolutely wonderful, and he’s so kind to his sisters and mother.” 

Then Lady Styles sat down and her face became a bit more serious. “Harry, I don’t mean to pry, but did you have a chance to read the book that I gave you earlier? I know it was just this morning, but then you sequestered yourself in your room, so I wasn’t sure. Do you have any questions for me?”

A blush rose on his cheeks, but Harry was going to be a married omega in less than a week, and he was perfectly capable of asking this question. “Will it hurt? It just seems as though, with a knot,” he paused, not knowing quite how to phrase his question. “It seems as though it wouldn’t fit, and that it would hurt. I don’t mean to be indelicate, but the book was very intriguing. I’m just nervous about when it actually happens.”

Lady Styles patted his hand and then stroked his hair. “I understand that it can hurt when the alpha is demanding, or doesn’t try to make it pleasurable for the omega. But I have the impression that Lord Tomlinson is the sort who would work very hard to make sure that mating is very pleasurable for you.”

Harry gave a little smile at that. “He brought me books, you know. Not the same one as you gave me, but he said that he wanted me to know what to expect.”

“Well, then, I think that you can feel a little more secure in knowing that. It won’t be terribly different from the toys you used during your heats, and you’ve been experiencing those for years now.” She looked at Harry again, then said, “Just know that if Lord Tomlinson is not as kind as we believe him to be, you are always welcome back here.”

It was a relief, and Harry said, “Thank you, Mama. I hope that I won’t need to do that. Lord Tomlinson has been very kind to me since we were pups, and even more so now that we’ve been engaged. I truly believe that everything will be fine.”

*****

Just three days later, Niall, Gemma, and Lady Styles were rushing around Harry’s bedchamber, and Harry was just trying to keep himself out of the commotion. Harry wasn’t sure exactly what they were doing, but they certainly were busy.

Miss Charlotte Tomlinson had arrived earlier that morning and thrown herself into helping Harry with all of his grooming. She had applied some sort of cream or oil to his hair, making it as shiny as it had ever been. She’d washed his face with a refreshing scented water, and had applied another cream. Then she helped him make the final adjustments to his outfit, surveying him from head to toe before pronouncing him lovely, and saying how lucky Louis was to have him.

Before he had time to breathe, they’d bundled him into the carriage and were off to the church. During the short ride, he tried to get a handle on his nerves, but they came crashing back on him, a happy, buzzy feeling in his stomach. 

Then they arrived at the church, he and Anne stepped from the carriage, and he walked to the sanctuary doors. The ushers opened them and there, at the end of the aisle, was Louis, smiling wide, eyes seeking out Harry’s.

The priest began speaking, and before Harry knew it, Louis was brushing a soft kiss across his lips, and they were married.

The wedding luncheon was a pleasant mix of all of Harry’s favorite foods and people. Even his father had been roused this morning when Harry went in to speak with him before the wedding. He had been able to speak briefly with Louis to give his approval of the match, though he had not been able to attend the ceremony or the luncheon.

Still, his nerves felt a bit jangly, and even though the thought of mating with Louis filled him with a warm, pleasant feeling, it all seemed as though it was happening rather quickly.

Finally, the luncheon was over and after making all their goodbyes, Louis was bundling him into a carriage to make the short trip to Louis’ own townhouse. They’d decided that, as ill as Harry’s father was, it was best that they continue to stay in town for a time rather than making a wedding trip as they otherwise might have.

Harry, who had only seen Lord Tomlinson’s townhouse as a pup, was stunned at how grand it was, and more surprised that Louis insisted on giving Harry the tour himself, rather than allowing the housekeeper to show him around. He was charming and pleasant to all of the staff, and had a teasing interaction with the cook, a plump woman of about fifty who gave them each a biscuit before shooing them from the kitchen.

Before long, they’d reached the upper floors, the part of the house reserved for family, and Harry gave himself a little shake, realizing that now— Louis was his closest family. The realization was more than a little startling, but it also filled his chest with a sort of warm feeling, the kind you get from a hot drink after being outside in the snow.

Louis spoke and drew Harry from his reverie. “And this is your bedchamber.” He turned the handle and pushed the doors open. Harry, having grown up as the son of an earl, was quite used to having fine belongings, but his new bedchamber was beyond his expectations. All of the furnishings appeared brand new and all the fabrics were in tones of green that matched his eyes. 

“It’s beautiful, Louis. You shouldn’t have. I don’t need all this.”

“Of course I should. I want only the best for my mate, and that’s exactly what you’ll get.” He turned and walked toward another set of doors along the wall. “Through here, you’ll find your dressing room, mine, and through here, my bedchamber.”

“Oh,” Harry said. “Oh, we won’t be sharing a bedchamber?”

“No,” said Louis, and he gave Harry a strange sort of look. “I thought that it would be best if we each had our own particular space.”

That was it, then. Louis had indeed married him out of obligation, or pity, or to ally their families. Not out of desire. Certainly not out of love. He took a breath and swallowed the strange feeling in his throat. Louis was still looking at him as though waiting for Harry to speak, so he forced himself to smile brightly and respond. 

“Yes. Yes, that will be very nice. The room is beautiful. Thank you for being so thoughtful.”

He had thought— hoped— that his marriage to Louis would be one of love, that Louis’ sweet smiles and solicitous behavior meant that he shared Harry’s growing feelings. Still, if Louis wished to keep this wall of separation between them, Harry would honor his wishes. He could feel the smile on his face growing strained, and was grateful when Louis offered his arm to lead Harry through to his own chamber.

He took Louis’ arm and followed him through the private corridor that ran between their bedchambers. Louis’ chamber, when he saw it, was much less ostentatious than his own. The difference was startling, and it made Harry feel even guiltier at the effort Louis had clearly put into having Harry’s chamber redecorated. 

In contrast to Harry’s chamber, Louis’ was plain and comfortable, with well-made furnishings and bedclothes that were fine but plain. The room was slightly larger than Harry’s, with a sitting area in one corner, strewn with letters, books, and newspapers. It looked comfortable and lived-in, and Harry longed to curl up there with a cup of tea and visit with Louis as he read and answered letters. Still, he understood, now better than ever, that this desire was one-sided, but perhaps Louis would still indulge him.

“Of course, you’re welcome to join me here for some reading or writing whenever you’d like.”

Harry smiled and thanked him before excusing himself to his own bedchamber to freshen up before dinner. It would be just the two of them, and then they would retire for the evening, and Harry would finally be a mated omega. Heat rose in his cheeks as he thought back to the books that his mother and Louis had given him. He wondered whether they would spend the night in his chamber or Louis’. He thought he might feel more at home in Louis’ room, which seemed so cozy.

Dinner that evening was relaxed. After the large wedding luncheon, neither of them had much of an appetite, and nerves had reduced Harry’s appetite further. Fortunately, the staff seemed to have anticipated this, and they had prepared a light meal of soup and crusty bread. 

With their meal finished, they retired to the drawing room. Louis poured himself a glass of port and asked if Harry would like a drink. Harry, who was used to drinking sherry in the evenings, found himself asking if he might have a glass of port as well. Louis raised an eyebrow, but poured him a glass and handed it over before picking his own glass up and sitting in the chair across from Harry.

They kept up a light conversation, interspersed with periods of silence that felt charged, rather than awkward. Louis described to Harry their main home, Windermere Abbey, which was situated several days’ journey to the north from London, and about a day’s journey from Harry’s family home. 

Harry had just finished laughing over a story Louis shared about troublemaking in his youth when Louis stood and extended his arm to Harry, saying, “Why don’t we turn in for the night?”

He couldn’t control the thrill that rain through his body at the suggestion. He allowed himself to be led from the room and up the stairs to their chambers. Louis pushed open the door to Harry’s bedchamber and gestured him inside before following him and shutting the door behind them. He could see that the maids had already turned down the bed and that everything had been readied for him to spend his first night with Louis as a married omega.

He turned, a smile on his face, to Louis, who stepped closer to him. Then Louis brushed a kiss across his lips, smoothed a hand down his cheek, and said, “Good night, my dear. Sleep well. I typically take breakfast at eight o’clock.” 

Then he was gone, the door shutting gently behind him as he passed into the hallway between their rooms. Harry was left staring. His husband, gone to bed, alone, on their wedding night, before they had mated? He wasn’t sure what to think. That was even worse, he thought, than Louis not wanting to share a bedchamber. What sort of an alpha didn’t take the opportunity to mate with his new omega husband? It had been more serious than Harry had thought when Louis had held his breath as they danced a year ago. How had he been convinced to marry Harry— had his dowry been enough of a temptation, he wondered? It must have been, and now here he was, in just the sort of situation he’d hoped to avoid. He was fortunate, at least, that it was not Mr. Cowell who was here with him. 

*****

The days passed in much the same manner. He walked through the park, attended balls, visited with friends and spent many afternoons tucked away in his parents’ house, enjoying games of chess with his father, who seemed a little stronger each day. Although Louis often had to deal with business matters, he was still frequently found at Styles House with Harry, or else at Deakin House, visiting with his mother and roughhousing with his many younger siblings. Louis was friendly, obliging, and seemingly always pleased to see Harry, but each night before bed, he kissed Harry gently on the lips and headed for his own separate bed chamber. It was maddening. 

Three weeks after moving into Tomlinson House, Harry experienced his first heat since marrying. He felt fortunate to have brought his toys, which he hadn’t expected to need after being married, but which he’d packed with the rest of his belongings anyway.

The morning before his heat was due to arrive, he mentioned it to Louis, thinking that this might be what finally spurred Louis to action, but he simply hummed thoughtfully. Later that day, he entered his room after an afternoon spent in the garden to find a package on his bed. He opened the note attached to it, which read—

 _Darling— here is something that I hope you will find useful for your upcoming heat. I understand that they provide excellent stimulation, and I hope that you thoroughly enjoy using it._  
_Yours,_  
_Louis_

He opened the package to find the most curious sort of toy. It had two parts— one designed to be inserted and one to stimulate his cock— so that he’d be getting constant stimulation, the sort that he might get if he spent his heat with an alpha. He’d never seen anything like it, certainly not among the toys that he’d been given when his heats started, and he was intrigued.

The edges of heat were swirling around him, like a pleasant haze, not yet the desperation he’d feel when the full heat set in. Well— if Louis wasn’t interested in mating, in fucking him through his heat, the least Harry could do was make good use of his gift.

*****

In nearly every respect, being married to Louis was a dream. With Harry’s father greatly improved, he and Louis had left town for Windermere Abbey, and it was all that Harry could have imagined and more. Every morning they either rode or walked together around the estate, then separated during the afternoon so that Louis could work on the business of the estate. Harry spent the time keeping up with his correspondence and visiting the estate’s tenants. Then, during supper, they discussed their days. Far from what Harry might have feared, he and Louis never ran out of things to talk about.

He had been thrilled to discover that the home had a very extensive library, and even happier to find that Louis was just as interested in reading its contents as he was. Just two weeks after they arrived, he and Louis held the first meeting of the two-person Windermere Abbey Literary Society, which had each of them select a book on a certain topic, read it, and switch, then meet for a lively and occasionally contentious discussion of what they’d read. This meant that they each spent many an evening huddled together in Louis’ study or the drawing room, reading their books and making an occasional note.

When it grew late, Louis would lead Harry to his bedchamber, press a gentle kiss to his mouth, and bid him goodnight before retiring to his own chamber. Harry had thought that when they arrived at Windermere, they might share a chamber, but once again, they slept in separate rooms. He was becoming desperate, and was afraid that he might explode from his pent-up desire. So one afternoon, he took up his pen and wrote one of the most embarrassing things he’d ever written— a letter to Niall, who married shortly after Harry had, asking for advice on how to seduce his own husband.

*****

Niall’s reply came more quickly than Harry had expected, and offered none of the advice that Harry had hoped for. The letter itself was very brief and looked as though Niall had dashed it off in a hurry.

 _Harry— rec’d your letter yesterday, along with Lord Tomlinson’s letter to Shawn. Thank him for the invitation. Packing bags now and will arrive at Windermere within the week._  
_Niall_

Harry was left with more questions than answers. He hadn’t realized that Louis had written to Mr. Mendes; Louis hadn’t mentioned knowing him. Mr. Mendes was quite a bit younger than Louis, but he supposed their time in school could have overlapped or that Louis might have been acquainted with Mr. Mendes’ older brother. At any rate, he was very happy that Louis had issued an invitation, because talking to Niall in person, while embarrassing, would be much more informative than receiving seduction advice in a letter.

Feeling quite pleased, he put down the letter and set out to find their housekeeper. They hadn’t had any guests since they arrived at Windermere Abbey, and Harry knew that Mrs. Worth would want as much time to prepare as possible. Knowing Niall as he did, Harry imagined that he’d arrive nearly as quickly as his letter had.

Sure enough, only two days after Niall’s letter arrived, so did Niall and Mr. Mendes. The first week of their visit was a joyful whirl of activity, and Harry could never find a moment alone to speak to Niall. Then a week after they arrived, Louis asked Mr. Mendes to ride with him as he went around to speak to tenants. Mr. Mendes, as the second son of an earl, didn’t have his own estate, but had spent many hours visiting tenants on his father’s estate and was eager to join Louis. This gave Harry and Niall the perfect opportunity to visit.

Once their husbands had ridden away they went to Harry’s private parlour, and after assuring the maid that they had everything they needed, they shut the door so they could speak privately. Harry poured their tea, and Niall took one of each of the sandwiches, cookies, and cakes the maid had left. Harry, who was feeling rather nervous, didn’t take any food at all.

They sat in silence for a time, Harry wrestling with how to ask about such an indelicate topic. Fortunately he was saved by Niall, who finished his last sandwich, put down his plate, and said, “So, you need to seduce Louis?”

Harry could feel the blush rising on his cheeks, but he made himself nod.

Niall cackled and clapped him twice on the back. Harry was glad that he’d put down his teacup, or it would have sloshed all over the floor.

“Well, we know he’s attracted to you, so that will make all of this easier.” Niall spoke with a certainty that Harry didn’t share.

“I’m not sure at all that he’s attracted to me, Niall. He hasn’t done anything to show that he is.”

Niall’s laugh was deep, and Harry thought it went on much too long for the situation. “Of course he is, Harry! He stares at you with a soppy look on his face whenever you’re together. I’ve never seen a man act so lovesick in all my life.”

Harry stared at him with astonishment. Could he really have missed all of this? Louis treated him well, that was true, but Niall was describing an entirely different set of behaviors than Harry had noticed.

“If you want my opinion,” Niall said, “all you need to do to seduce him is to go tell him that you want to mate. I believe that he’s simply waiting for you to be ready, and once you tell him that you are, you’ll be mated.”

Harry wasn’t sure that it would be as simple as that, and he was about to say so when Niall continued speaking. “Of course, there’s always the option of putting on a robe and spreading yourself across his bed one evening. That would work too.”

He couldn’t imagine himself ever being that bold, but if that’s what it took to get his husband to mate with him, Harry thought he could force himself to do it. He hummed consideringly and allowed himself to be led back into conversation, this time about a duck that had followed Niall on his morning walk yesterday. Apparently Niall was thinking of adopting the animal.

Harry spent the rest of that day, and two more after it, watching Louis carefully to see if he did indeed pay Harry the attention Niall said he did. After his observations, Harry still felt a bit uncertain, but it did seem that Louis spent quite a bit of time watching him. He decided that he would wait for two more days. At the end of that time, if Louis seemed to be behaving the same way, Harry would follow Niall’s advice and go speak with him.

*****

The door to Louis’ study was cracked, and he’d made it clear since Harry had arrived at Windermere Abbey that his door was always open to Harry, regardless of how busy he was or who was visiting him. That was all well and good, but this was the first time that Harry had had to knock, or do more than simply poking his head in the door, and his stomach clenched with nerves. If only he simply needed to ask about a place setting, or a guest list, or to have the budget for his wardrobe increased slightly, the knock would be easier.

Still, there was no way around this conversation, and so he rapped three times and waited for a response.

At Louis’ response, he pushed the door inward, and his husband rose to his feet, his smile reaching up to his eyes.

“Darling, I wasn’t expecting you this afternoon! I thought that you would be out riding with Niall, since the Mendeses will be returning to town in a few days’ time.”

He couldn’t fight the blush that rose to his cheeks. “I took my leave of Niall today so that I might talk with you about a… delicate topic.” 

Louis raised an eyebrow and gestured for him to continue.

“You see, my next heat should be coming next week, and summer is approaching, and soon I will have to wear blouses with a lower neckline and…” He trailed off, not knowing how to continue, and was sure that his cheeks were a fiery red. 

Luckily, Louis took pity on him. “Harry, are you afraid that everyone will see that we haven’t mated yet?”

Harry could do nothing but nod, feeling in equal parts relieved that Louis had so easily caught his meaning and mortified at having had to bring it up.

Before Harry could continue the conversation, Louis was by his side. “May I?” He reached his arms toward Harry, as though to embrace him, and Harry found himself helpless to resist.

Louis gathered Harry into his arms, rubbing him gently on the back. “Darling, you have nothing to worry about. I only delayed our mating since our wedding was so rushed, and since I knew that you were marrying me out of obligation, rather than attraction. I wanted you to have the chance to settle into your new home without all that comes with mating and being mated.”

At this, Harry felt obligated to speak. “Of course I married you out of attraction. Didn’t you feel the same?”

Louis’ response was quick. “I’ve been attracted to you since your first season. When we danced at Lady Dunmore’s ball, I thought I would scent you in the middle of the dance floor and scandalize all the matrons.”

Harry was overcome with a rush of emotion he couldn’t place, and could do nothing but bury his head against Louis’ neck.

Then Louis kissed him on the forehead and said, “Oh, Harry, I think we’ve made a mess of things. I was certain that you were marrying me simply to avoid Mr. Cowell’s advances, but I’m so glad that you weren’t. And we haven’t wasted our time, we’ve just had the chance to court after being married. Truthfully, I’m glad that we’ve had this time, so that our mating will mean much more.”

When they had decided this afternoon on a time and place for their mating, Harry had suggested Louis’ chamber, knowing that he could retreat to his own if the evening went horribly wrong, or was as embarrassing as he thought it might be.

Besides, at this point he still didn’t feel ready to invite Louis into his domain, afraid to give up the one place in the enormous house that truly felt like his. 

So that left him, at 8 o’clock, in nothing but a silk robe, crossing the sitting room between his room and Louis’, giving a tentative knock on the door. Barely a moment had passed before a similarly-clad Louis was ushering Harry into the room, offering him a seat in one of the wingback chairs in the corner, handing him a glass of wine.

As Harry sipped, Louis watched him with a look that Harry thought was almost fond. “Harry, sweetheart, before we mate, I must ask you a few questions.”

Harry nodded, the spiced wine filling his belly with warmth that had nothing to do with Louis’ soft gaze. 

“You mentioned during our engagement that you wanted to have lots of pups.” Harry nodded. “Would you like to postpone having pups until we’ve been married a while longer, or would you like to begin trying to get pregnant now?”

And this was a question Harry certainly knew the answer to. He’d be thrilled to have pups as soon as he and Louis were able, and he told Louis so.

“Also, Harry— I don’t mean to be indelicate, but— blast it, we’ll be mating tonight, I’ll just come out with it. I know that you’ve been having heats since the age of fifteen. Has anyone explained to you the mechanics of mating? Did you happen to have a chance to read any of the books I gave you before we were married?”

Harry nodded, and didn’t know if he’d be able to speak around the lump in his throat.

“Do you want to tell me, love, what you read about how our mating will happen, or do you want me to describe it? I don’t want you to go into this blind. I want you to have a chance to ask questions and share your thoughts and feelings with me.”

And Harry didn’t want to be a baby. He was a married man, about to mate with his husband for the first time, and he was absolutely capable of describing what he expected of that mating so that Louis knew he was ready.

When Harry finished speaking, Louis’ eyes were hooded, and he seemed a bit dazed. He stood up from his chair and crossed over to Harry’s. When he reached him, he tipped Harry’s chin up. “Love, is it alright if I kiss you?” Harry nodded, his breath caught in his throat, and then Louis’ lips were on his. They’d kissed at the wedding, and since then, little pecks and even more lingering kisses, but nothing could have prepared him for the passion with which Louis kissed now that they were going to mate.

Before he knew it, Harry was on his feet, stumbling with Louis over to the bed, arms wrapped around Louis’ neck and Louis’ hands resting on Harry’s waist, with one creeping down toward his bottom. 

Then Louis was falling back onto the bed, pulling Harry down on top of him. Harry found himself, legs spread, straddling Louis with his robe wide open. It was funny— five minutes ago, he’d have been flushed with embarrassment. As it was, he just wondered how he’d get Louis to reach up and pull on the tie, strip him of the robe altogether.

He didn’t have to wait long and then Louis was fumbling, one-handed, with the tie of his own robe, and then the tie of Harry’s. When he’d finally, finally slipped Harry’s robe from his shoulders, Louis stopped and drew in a ragged breath.

“Oh, love, you are more beautiful than I could have imagined.” He traced down the line of Harry’s neck, over his nipples —who knew those were so sensitive?—and down his stomach, stopping when he reached the thatch of hair below. 

“May I touch you here?” Harry nodded, knowing that his face must still be aglow, though this time with desire more than embarrassment. 

Muttering about making sure that Harry was comfortable, Louis gently maneuvered him so that he was lying on his back in the middle of the bed, his head on the pillows, and totally exposed. 

Confident now that Harry was in a safe spot, the alpha began to kiss his way from the corner of Harry’s mouth down his jaw, stopping at his neck to scent him thoroughly.

Then Louis began to kiss his way down Harry’s chest, down his stomach, lower and lower, and there had been nothing about that in any of his books. His heart was beating out of his chest and his breaths were coming quick and shallow, but he managed to breath out a “Louis? What—?”

Louis looked up at him from his spot around Harry’s navel. “It will make you feel good, my love. I’ll stop if you want me to—?”

Harry could think of nothing he wanted less. He’d thought, when Louis asked to touch him there, that Louis meant with his hand, as Harry did when he was in heat. But it seemed that Louis planned to touch him with his mouth, and that, for some reason, filled Harry’s stomach with a very warm feeling.

“No, no, please don’t stop,” he said, surprised at how strangled his voice sounded. 

Louis’ face split in a grin, and he continued kissing his way down Harry’s belly, interspersing every few kisses with a pleasurable sort of gentle nip with his teeth. Then, finally, he reached Harry’s cock. He gave it a gentle kiss on the head, and Harry thought his heart might burst, but then— he licked, all the way from base to tip. Then another lick, and another, before he returned to the tip and wrapped his lips around it and sucked.

He’d thought before that the hazy, sweat-soaked orgasms of his heat were pleasurable, but they were nothing compared to the white-hot pleasure that shot through him at the touch of Louis’ mouth. Harry rode the feeling as Louis continued, occasionally pulling off to press kisses to Harry’s cock, or to suckle gently at the head before diving back in, bringing Harry closer and closer to the edge. Just when he thought he’d tumble over, Louis pulled back and looked at Harry, for a moment, with a look of supreme satisfaction. Then he raised himself on his arms and crawled up to cover Harry’s body, kissing the crook of his neck before capturing his mouth.

“Love?” 

Harry blinked up at him. How could Louis possibly expect him to form words right now?

“Harry, love, are you ready? I need you to answer— I don’t want to take advantage of you.” His words were gentle but firm, and Harry knew he’d have to answer before Louis would give him what he wanted, what he needed.

“Ready,” he moaned. “So ready, Louis, please, ready.”

Then Louis let out a quivery breath, as though he’d been holding it in, and moved his hips. He lined himself up, the tip of his cock pushing gently against Harry’s hole, but he didn’t push in as Harry expected, as the books had shown. Instead, he let out a pleased-sounding sigh and shifted his weight so that he could reach down between their legs. 

The first touch was a gentle brush with his fingers across Harry’s hole. When he found it wet, soaking with slick, he slid a finger in, slowly at first, and then at Harry’s moan, pulled it out and added a second. In and out, in and out, and then, when it was almost too much, he took his fingers out. 

This time, when his cock pushed against Harry’s hole, he didn’t pull back. He pushed in, slowly, stopping every inch or so to give Harry time to adjust. When Harry gasped and grabbed Louis’ shoulders and wrapped his legs around Louis’ waist to pull him closer, Louis let out a ragged moan and began fucking into him. For a few minutes, the room was full of nothing but the slick sounds of Louis pushing into him and both their moans, but then— “Harry, love, god, do you want the bite today?”

Harry nodded. “Yes, yes, yes, please, yes.”

So Louis bit down at the same time as he reached down and wrapped his hand around Harry’s cock. The somehow sweet pleasure-pain of the bite mixed with the pleasure of Louis’ hand around his cock and Louis’ knot swelling in him pushed him over the edge, and his cock spilled over his belly.

He held Louis, clutching him like a lifeline as Louis finished, thrusting into him a bit slower now as he rode out his orgasm. Harry could feel Louis’ cock pulsing inside him, could feel his come inside. That, combined with the lap of Louis’ tongue over the bite was enough to have Harry’s cock, which had softened a bit, stiffening again. Louis groaned as he felt it against his stomach. Then he ran his hand through the come on Harry’s stomach, and reached, once again, for Harry’s cock. This time, he kept up a more leisurely pace, using the come to slide his hand slowly, teasingly up and down Harry’s cock, occasionally drawing a gasp from Harry by pushing his hips toward him, forcing his knot further inside. It was soft, and quiet, and entirely different than the first time, and Harry loved it.

He found himself muttering, words of endearment, of thanks, words he wasn’t sure made sense, but then Louis was muttering back at him. “Love, so wonderful, best omega, I‘ve loved you forever.”

At that, hearing Louis’ declaration of love, Harry found his orgasm washing over him, sweet and calm, almost like a sigh. 

For a time they lay like that, soft and quiet and wrapped in each others’ arms, waiting for Louis’ knot to shrink so that they could separate. After a time, Harry made himself speak. “Louis? Did you mean what you said? About loving me?”

Louis smiled, pulling Harry a bit closer to him. “I liked you so much when we were pups, you know, and then when I was nineteen I saw you in town, but you were only sixteen. Much too young, and so I waited and hoped that when you were older, you would have me. As I said earlier, I wish that I’d had the chance to court you before we married, but that’s why I thought it was so important for us to wait to mate.” He buried his fingers in Harry’s hair. “I’m glad that we did— it was amazing.”

Harry sighed happily. “It was amazing. I’m sorry that we never told each other how we felt, but I’m glad that we’ve ended up here, now.”

“So am I, love.” Louis brushed a kiss across his cheek and drew Harry closer to him. “Wouldn’t have it any other way."

*****

For the first time since they’d married, Harry and Louis walked down to breakfast together the next morning rather than arriving separately. It felt like a small accomplishment, but it was magnified many times when they reached the dining room and Niall saw the edge of Harry’s bond mark peeking out from his collar.

He gasped and shot from his chair to wrap his arms around Harry. “Your bond mark! I’m so happy for you—” And he pulled Harry’s collar to the side a bit to see the mark.

“Niall!” Mr. Mendes hissed from his place at the table. “You can’t just talk about people’s bond marks!”

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting for this moment, Shawn? For these two to pull themselves together? I’m more invested in their relationship than ours!”

Mr. Mendes gave an indulgent smile. He knew as well as any of them that this was completely untrue. 

Niall took both Harry and Louis by the arm and led them over to the table, where he completely defied convention by seating them next to each other. Then he began chattering happily away, telling his husband in detail how Harry and Louis had overcome the slings and arrows of adversity and their own stubbornness to be sitting here today as a mated couple. 

As Niall waxed rhapsodic, Harry found his thoughts slipping away to remembrances of the previous night and thoughts of the mark he now bore, the mark that bound him forever to Louis. Now that they were mated he was immensely glad that, as Louis had mentioned yesterday, they’d gotten to know each other better before bonding. He could be sure now that his feelings toward Louis weren’t just the infatuation and longing of his youth, or the pining of a young man who had just entered society. 

And even more, his devotion was returned. A thrill zipped through him as he remembered Louis’ words of love the previous night. As though Louis could tell what Harry was thinking, he reached over, putting his hand on Harry’s knee, and gave a comforting rub.

Soon they’d return to town for the season, the usual flurry of parties and activities. Then, Louis had told him as they lay in bed last night, he wanted to take Harry on a tour of the continent— “to show you all the sights that reminded me of you.” And before long, there would be pups, and then their time would never be their own again. So for now, he would savour the quiet moments spent with Louis and their close friends. Harry placed his own hand over Louis’ and gave a quick series of pats. Then he sat back and let the happy sound of conversation wash over him.

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr is [et-y-etc](https://et-y-etc.tumblr.com), and the fic post for this story is [here](https://et-y-etc.tumblr.com/post/619387701488173056/sigh-for-sigh-by-et-y-etc-ao3-logogram) if you'd like to reblog!


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